Wednesday, April 4, 2012

A to Z: Devotion

When we lived between Hinchman Way and Laguna Creek, near us was a woman named Arthi, who knew herself as Susan, who we referred to as Aji, not that she was my father's mother. My mother and father worked two jobs each and Susan Aji collected our books with us from class and walked us home.

She was a woman of God and commonly followed His will. She spoke of His name and uttered His stories. You might think that a grandmother type would give two impressionable girls many gifts. She gave us one. His holy book.

In her company, we were reminded of perfection and harmonious order. That the disorder of today was not caused by Him, but by His earliest people. The ability to defy and resist is that of only one kind-humankind. We were introduced to the fall. Rebellion, mercy, atonement. She colored us with the rainbow in the sky, His promise that He would never again let loose the waters.

In the sky, He dies.

In our own home, the pundit was present, as though he shared blood. My father would organize a puja for every occasion. With the purest of hearts, my sister and I would engage in every superstitious ritual.

Then, I thought it to be cultural duty, today I know it to be my own pagan will.

Susan Aji was never present for our puja nor our sparklers at Deepavali.

On Sundays she borrowed us early. We learned apostolic stories. Wednesday evenings when my father was sure to work late, arriving at an odd hour, to tired to question the evenings occurrence, Aji would bring anxious women from the church to read to my mother. My mother, she would wear her om around her neck and a splendor of sindoor at the height of her forehead as she held onto her gift, listened, and struggled to understand.

We are an accepting people, where god has more than one name, yet he sits at the core of our hearts, just as any other people. We are men and women of flesh and blood, beholden to wind and water. Fate speaks to us, like a fish who is hooked at sea.

There is a sameness in religions and belief that none of the cant, rancour and prejudice can destroy. It is all to do with our own love and thankfulness to our creator and our willingness to embrace good and fight evil. We learn about life from the strangest of sources and hold each lesson dear in our hearts.

We are an accepting people, where god has more than one name, yet he sits at the core of our hearts, just as any other people. We are men and women of flesh and blood, beholden to wind and water. Fate speaks to us, like a fish who is hooked at sea.